


Dream Your Way Back

by aurumdalseni (kyo_chan)



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Book 1: Call Down the Hawk, Call Down the Hawk Spoilers, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:14:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22880839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyo_chan/pseuds/aurumdalseni
Summary: Adam was giving his first presentation at Harvard in three weeks. Ronan was beyond proud, but there was one problem. It was at Harvard. Where he was no longer allowed to be.Until he finds a way to make it right.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 7
Kudos: 64





	Dream Your Way Back

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to fix the Harvard problem stat so here’s my little fix-it fic for Ronan after the murder crab incident

Adam was giving his first presentation at Harvard in three weeks. Ronan was beyond proud, but there was one problem. It was at Harvard. Where he was no longer allowed to be. He lamented this greatly, and it showed on his bruised knuckles, the circles under his eyes, and the way he held his phone like it were a lifeline. As if answering it whenever Adam called or texted now would make up for how much he wished he hadn’t fucked up that night.

“This is not productive,” Declan told him over breakfast one morning.

“Fuck you,” was Ronan’s very convincing rebuttal.

“Language,” Matthew chimed in, though it was clear he was joking. He didn’t care if Ronan swore; he just wanted Ronan to smile.

It did the trick, and Ronan rolled his eyes while the corner of his mouth twitched up ever so slightly.

Declan sighed. “I’m serious.”

“Instead of telling me how much it sucks, tell me how to fix it, _Dad_.”

Declan flinched, and Ronan hated that he regretted saying it. Matthew’s chuckle broke the tension because, for all intents and purposes, Declan was a better Dad than Niall would ever be.

“Look.” Declan pointed his fork at him. He’d barely touched what was on his plate, and something about his expression said he disliked what was about to come out of his mouth. But this was the beauty of the Lynch brothers: they loved each other fiercely. “You dreamed your way into this. Dream your way out of it.” When Ronan opened his mouth to protest, Declan shook his head. “If you could dream your way back to the Barns, you can dream your way back into Harvard. Don’t you think?”

Ronan thought.

Yes, yes he could.

Adam concluded his speech the way it began, confidence in his topic and trepidation for a successful delivery. Somehow, his voice had managed not to shake, all those nights of practice paying off. God, Ronan had to be so sick of it by now, Adam with his phone on speaker, the other end silent. But it was done and the roar of applause was a balm over all those worries. He didn’t know if he should bow, nod or just walk away, so he settled for some strange combination of the latter two that involved a slight wave. He glimpsed his crew when Fletcher whooped, a smile coming to his face. That’s when he saw...

No, it couldn’t be.

His steps off the platform became more urgent as his heart picked up speed. Adam surely thought sleepless nights and weeks of intense longing had his eyes playing tricks on him. When he got out to the courtyard, familiar bodies surrounded him, cheering, clapping him on the back, and he was grateful. But what he really wanted—

“Parrish,” Ronan rumbled into his ear, wrapping his arms around him, face tucked into his neck. “Not bad for your first nerd talk.”

“Motivating,” Adam grumbled, but he had his hands in the places they belonged, the back of Ronan’s head, the jut of his hip. God, how it twisted everything up in Adam to be holding him here, now.

“The original Crier returns,” Benjy proclaimed.

Adam was sure the only reason Ronan moved his nose from under his ear was to shoot Adam’s friends a dirty look over his shoulder.

“No no,” Gillian corrected. “He takes the lunch money, remember?”

Eliot held up his hands in surrender. “Good thing I already ate.”

“You’re all impossible,” Adam told them, which seemed to work in stopping the teasing. Ronan’s arms practically ground into his ribs.

He nudged Ronan’s head up, tracing the line of his clenched jaw. His gaze was wonderous, and no doubt hungry. Just the smell of Ronan’s aftershave made him want to be anywhere but the open courtyard.

“How?” Adam murmured into a kiss more chaste than he would have preferred.

Ronan’s nonverbal rumble said he’d tell him later. That was fine with Adam. He could get the story while Ronan’s hands were places they couldn’t be presently.

“ _Gratias_.”

“Mm.”

Adam didn’t know yet what it had cost Ronan to come here, or what the conditions were. Adam has signed paperwork, doomed himself to an entire undergrad of Ronan being unable to set foot on Harvard property. It had killed something inside him to do it and knowing Ronan had come all the way here to see him speak somehow breathed life into that part of him. God, he’d talked to Ronan at 3AM this morning; has he already been in Cambridge? Holding his breath in some hotel, praying? Adam’s knees were weak.

“Let’s get coffee,” he suggested. Because he needed more of that like a hole in the head. But he could drink it with Ronan, hold his hand.

“Okay,” Ronan agreed.

Adam twisted his fingers with Ronan’s and he wasn’t about to let go anytime soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me about CDTH and TRC on my blog!


End file.
